


Sherlock Doesn't Like Summer Nights

by sherrinholmes



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Sherlock Being Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherrinholmes/pseuds/sherrinholmes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Isn't it considered normal and wise to remove layers when one finds one's self overheating?" Sherlock threw the shirt into some dark corner of the room and began working on the drawstring of his pyjama trousers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Doesn't Like Summer Nights

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Macdicilla](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Macdicilla/gifts).



"John it's too hot, I can't sleep."

"Mhm. Have you tried getting rid of the blankets?"

"Of course, I'm not an idiot," Sherlock replied. "It hasn't done any good. This weather should be illegal."

"Why don't you ask Mycroft to get rid of the sun then?"

"Not funny."

"Go back to sleep."

"Can't."

Sherlock flopped dramatically onto his stomach, then turned to his side, then to the side facing John. After a moment of staring at John's face he smiled a very small and dangerous smile and began slowly removing his pyjama shirt. Yes, it had been one of those rare nights when Sherlock actually paired pyjamas and bedtime.

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

"It looks like you're getting undressed."

"Brilliant John, brilliant. Your observational skills have improved immensely."

"Right, great, but why?"

"Why what?" The shirt was halfway off.

"Why are you getting undressed?"

"Isn't it considered normal and wise to remove layers when one finds one's self overheating?" Sherlock threw the shirt into some dark corner of the room and began working on the drawstring of his pyjama trousers.

"Sherlock," he was almost afraid to ask, "are you wearing any pants?"

"No." His flatmate replied decisively.

The dangerous smile had returned. Oh he should have known something was up when Sherlock willingly went to bed, and at a sane hour.

The trousers too found their home in the same corner.

"Much better."

"Good. Sleep now?"

"Mm, yes."

John closed his eyes and rolled onto his side to face away from Sherlock. After a moment a long (and very warm) arm wrapped itself around his waist, and a very warm body pressed itself against his back. Sherlock tucked his head against John's neck and shoulder, and sighed contentedly.

"You really are hot," John said, concerned Sherlock might have a fever. The reply he received moments later was spoken very softly, and slurred, as if through the walls of a dream.

"Thank you."

And John couldn't help but smile at that.

 


End file.
